


Prank Call

by dogmatix, norcumi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Stargate SG-1
Genre: GFY, Gen, Goa'uld, Other, Qui-Gon is present but doesn't talk, SG1 ensemble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:56:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3583686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogmatix/pseuds/dogmatix, https://archiveofourown.org/users/norcumi/pseuds/norcumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Funny. Pantora never had a wall blocking off their Stargate before…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prank Call

**Author's Note:**

> This is NOT related to A Star to Steer By. Prank Call is a standalone oneshot.

For all that SG 1 was usually around when trouble hit, this time they were away on a mission when the alarm blared for an unscheduled offworld activation.

“Where’s it coming from?” Hammond asked, frowning at the ring as it spun around, chevrons locking in place with their usual solid thunks.

“I- I don’t know, it’s not anything from our database,” Siler replied, wide-eyed.  The stargate connected, and the wormhole opened in a plume of silver impossibility.

“Close the iris!”

“Yes, sir!”

Tensely, they waited.  Down in the gate room, marines stood at the ready, guns trained on the closed iris.

Nothing. No splats, no thunks, no incoming communications. Maybe it was a false alarm?

A rod of burning blue light drove through the metal of the iris.

It dragged through the iris in a circular shape, leaving a molten metal trail behind it.

“What is that?” Hammond demanded.

“I don’t know. That shouldn’t be possible!”

The circle which had been cut out of the iris – maybe a meter and a half in diameter – made a dull metallic clang as it came down hard on the top of the ramp, ejected from the wall of metal like a cork.  It left a hole large enough for two people to tumble through onto the metal ramp.

Both male, they were dressed in tan and black tunics, and each now held a rod of glowing blue light as if it were a weapon.  Someone yelled at them to put their weapons down, and they both turned to face the person yelling at them.  That must have been enough to break someone’s nerve, because a shot ran out into the blaring sirens.

Hammond pounded on the intercom. “Cease fire!”  Goddammit, that was all he needed, for their side to start shooting first.

* * *

  
Anakin and Ahsoka felt the warning through the Force, and positioned their lightsaber to intercept the… projectile?  Huh. Not a blaster bolt.  Damn, they’d dialed wrong after all – this was not the fortified outpost on Pantora.

A voice yelled and the sirens cut out, which Anakin hoped was a good sign.

Then again, Pantora didn’t have a damn metal shield in front of their Gate, either, so that should have been their first clue.

The nervous humans pointing a lot of guns at them were a good second clue. Anakin and Ahsoka were pretty sure it was all Obi-Wan who was stepping forward, lightsaber back at his belt and hands upraised. Qui-Gon had expended a lot of his reserves keeping himself and Obi-Wan going during their week-long stay in captivity, and even more during the escape from the holding cell.  Cutting through the metal wall barring the way out of the gate had probably eaten up the last dregs of strength, even for a working pair of Jedi. ‘Resilient’ did not mean ‘invincible,’ after all.

Not that keeping them all from splatting against the wall had been a picnic, but he and Ahsoka were known as powerhouses for a reason.  Even fresh, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon would have had trouble holding them all stationary just before exiting a wormhole.

A few tries of various languages made it clear that they were once again on the shiny end of a lightsaber, so to speak, since the new guys didn’t look very cooperative, and Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were at the end of their resources. Negotiating tense diplomatic messes might have been their speciality, but this was a little extreme even for them.

The droideka popping through the improvised entrance hole, neat as you please, was an unpleasant surprise. While it was nice that the warped, splintered pieces of several others tumbled into the large room, accompanied by several dull thuds, there was still one intact droideka sending up its damn shields and taking aim.

“Plug the door!” Obi-Wan’s lightsaber was already deflecting shots from the droid, so Anakin and Ahsoka disengaged their blade and reached for the metal cut from the wall. They were unfortunately too busy lifting the metal into place and holding it there to help – especially as several more droids slammed into the wall and their plug.

Someone was finally bright enough to close the gate, though not before the gathered humans had fired a whole bunch of slugs at the droideka’s shields. They managed to wing one of their own guys, but it didn’t look fatal.

Anakin let go of the metal as Obi-Wan managed to cut the droideka into scrap. The younger Jedi turned around just in time to catch their teacher, who was somehow managing a slow collapse down to his knees. Thankfully, it was slow enough that they caught him before his face ended up in the grating.

# _Great,_ # Ahsoka muttered to Anakin. # _What do we do now?_ #

* * *

Janet watched from the control room as the younger man muttered something to the unconscious older one. He was still kneeling on the grating, in front of an impossibly abused iris. One of his arms was wrapped around the shorter, bearded man, the other held the glowing rod ready to attack or defend. Since she’d arrived just in time to see that kid melt a damn bullet with it –  _that is NOT possible. Panic later, Fraiser_  – she supposed it could be either.

However, she had more important things to do than worry about what oversized glowsticks could do. “General, we have wounded in there, and our guests were clearly trying to communicate peacefully before those things showed up. Please. I think a bit of benefit of the doubt could go a long way.”

Janet didn’t really mind that General Hammond went through the expected song and dance about whether it worth it – she would have been disturbed if he  _hadn’t_  given it. Still, she hated the need to go through their little ritual. When he finally gave her permission to enter and deal with the situation, she barely waited before charging in. Playing at diplomat and negotiating for the US government and Earth was not something she’d ever thought she’d be doing, but at the SGC you either adapted or got trampled.

The younger man – she kept wanting to think of him as a boy, but he pretty clearly wasn’t – was cautiously amiable to her. Somehow she convinced him to come to medical, though he insisted on carrying his friend – not that he seemed to find that difficult. While her assistants took care of the injured airmen, she was left to navigate a language barrier and an understandably twitchy type that didn’t want to give up his weapon.  She wasn’t happy about that, but he hadn’t done anything overtly threatening, so she decided to let it go.

* * *

 There was no mistaking a healer, no matter what the species or language. The short human was faintly afraid, but no more than she was cautious and reasonable. She took them to the infirmary, along with the idiots who’d tossed slugs at the driodeka.

# _We’re lucky they don’t blame us for that._ #

# _Seriously, ‘Soka, can you be ANY more paranoid?_ #

He’d never figured out how his symbiote could convey a mock haughty sniff, but Ahsoka  _was_  special.

Wherever they were, the local tech didn’t seem to be up to Republic standards. The healer wanted them to put Obi-Wan down in a...tube...thing.

# _...What...IS that?_ #

Anakin stared as the healer made a few motions, pulling over another human – who didn’t look too happy with matters – and getting her to lie down and stay  _still_  on the platform. # _No idea, but no, we’re not doing that. There’s cooperating, but..._ #

# _Yeaaah. Let’s not be stupid, Skyguy._ #

# _Why do you always make it sound like I’m the one making reckless decisions around here?_ #

Ahsoka chuckled and sent a burst of affection to him, and Anakin vehemently shook his head at the healer. She didn’t like that. They ended up in a standoff, her with hands on hips and a frustrated expression, him with arms crossed and a brow quirked, because really, he wasn’t stupid. He made a point of staying between her and Obi-Wan, and she didn’t seem to like that either. The healer finally ended up tossing up her hands – # _I didn’t think anyone REALLY did that,_ # Ahsoka marveled – and then pulled another hapless soldier in. This time she had some sort of handheld thing requiring a lot of goop on it. That was...weird, but seemed okay for the most part.

The  _dumb_  part was that she wanted to do this to the back of his neck, right near Ahsoka. They debated it quickly, both a little dubious, but Ahsoka was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. The locals  _were_  taking care of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, checking them over for obvious injuries and making sure there was a quasi-comfortable bed and blankets. The only way out would include one hell of a body count, which was neither polite nor intelligent – not to mention the bitching out their work partners would give once that little escapade came to light.

# _It...seems to be a reasonable alternative. And if it’s near the brain then maybe it’s a quick centralized scan to make sure everyone’s healthy?_ #

Anakin was shrugging off his armor and tunics, because he knew a decision when he heard one, but it was still hard to not roll his eyes. # _Do you have ANY idea how healer toys work?_ #

# _Oh, like you do?_ #

# _So help me, if she didn’t feel as exasperated about this as we do–_ #

# _Let’s just get this over with, okay, Skyguy?_ #

The first brush of goop was weird, too cold except for where it’d been artificially warmed.  In all, the whole thing was damned strange. Anakin grunted and squirmed a little, understanding why the soldier who’d demonstrated for them had had such an expression of long-suffering patience.

The moment the healer’s presence went from concerned and vaguely annoyed to startled, then _fear-fear-FEAR-FEAR_ , Anakin was up and moving, lightsaber in hand and facing the suddenly tense guards. Another standoff, this time without his armor, and both he and Ahsoka could not figure out what the  _hell_  was going on now.

* * *

 Janet stood still, trying to keep her skin from crawling the way it always did when she found one of those  _things_  impossibly wrapped around someone’s spinal cord. The level of sheer wrongness,  _intrusion_  upon the human body always made her want to snarl and attack something, which in turn meant she always held herself back, forcing herself to take a calm, balanced view of whatever the hell was going on.

“Someone alert Hammond, and call the Tok’ra, immediately,” she snapped. “And lower your weapons, they  _still_  haven’t done anything hostile!”

“Ma’am –” one of the on-duty airmen started, and she rolled her eyes.

“If the goa’uld or any of our other “friends” out there had figured out a way to survive the iris, then they’d have sent a lot more than these two, and one of them wouldn’t be starved and half beaten to death, so  _get the damn Tok’ra on the phone!_ ”

* * *

 Sam really did hate the missions where she came back injured. It wasn’t so much the “being injured” part, so much as the fact that SG-1 had a weird tendency to linger in the infirmary together as moral support.  That would work a hell of a lot better if Colonel O’Neil and Danny weren’t  _horrible_  patients, and Teal’c didn’t love to play games by being so deadpan that the ignorant thought he really  _was_  that strange, instead of pranking as many people as he could.

 _Ladies and gentlemen, the first line of defense for the world, and the galaxy._  Sam snickered and shook her head as she stepped out of the wormhole, only to hiss as her shoulders automatically hunched and an internal sense started to  _scream_  at her. “Goa’uld,” she snapped, hand going for her sidearm.

Injuries to her and the Colonel aside, SG-1 was immediately ready to deal with the problem. The intercom crackled, and Siler cleared his throat. “Welcome home, SG-1. There’s been a situation developing.”

“Oh, words I love to hear,” the Colonel growled, and Sam had to agree.

They were debriefed on the way to the infirmary. While that wasn’t new, the situation rather was. Walking into Medical, only to find a half-naked young man wielding some kind of glowy sword was...different.

Sam wasn’t quite sure if she should face palm as an instant later, Jack blurted out “I don’t know what that is, but I want one!”, or just turn around and leave as the young man did a horrified double-take at Teal’c. Instead of looking at Apophis’s seal, he was looking at the man’s stomach and presumably detecting the larva there. Then the man shifted his stance into something that looked more aggressive than defensive as he growled something offended at Janet.

“Well,” Danny sighed, “at least he’s appropriately horrified at our local barbaric practices.”

Damn Teal’c anyways, because of course he just crossed his arms a little defensively, raised a brow a precise distance, and announced, “As am I, all too often. I would like it upon the record,” Teal’c continued, ”that if Colonel O’Neil  _does_  get his hands upon this sort of weapon, he should not be the only one.”

Jack sniggered. “Sword fighting in the exercise room, T? Sounds like fun.”

“None of this is fun, for  _anyone_ ,” Sam declared, sharing a sympathetic glance with Dr. Fraiser.  “Daniel? I think you’re up.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes that really is the end, sadly - this was a short plunnie, and we almost didn't even post this much. 
> 
> If anyone wants to expand on it, or use the premise, please feel free (we'd appreciate a link back/heads up if you do this, just so we can be nosy and come read it too <3 )
> 
> Anything not stated is open to interpretation, though the Jedi probably fill a similar function in this 'verse as they do in canon (ie., peacekeepers, diplomats, getting into horrific situations requiring 'aggressive negotiation' - you know the drill), some of them just happen to be symbiotic brain-snakes.


End file.
